A Phoenix of Remnant
by tomla134
Summary: Sam Phoenix goes from a Terra that has suddenly manifested Grimm to Remnant. Will he get accepted into Beacon, and by his new friends? What will the Cedocore group do with these new creatures? What could they do with Dust? I know that it should be marked as crossover, because Sam Phoenix has been in other works (read: fanfictions), but it isn't.
1. Chapter 1: Fairy Tail

Sam stepped up to the shooting line and prepared to fire. He was the only one on the range, so he didn't need to worry about other people. Mind you, this was also the most remote part of Yellowstone National Forest you could be in and still be on the ground. It was called Fairyland, for the tall spires that rose out of the ground, and the generally surreal feel of the place. Fewer than a hundred people had ever been here, primarily because it was really remote. Very remote.

A loud crashing sound echoed from the forest, just as he let the arrow slip. Sam jerked and swore: the arrow had missed the target and sparked off of . . . a nearby rock.

Swearing, he turned and contemplated the thing or person that had appeared to disrupt his practice. Sam unsheathed his trident as he did so, bringing it to full size as he swung it.

"Wh—

". . ."

"You're a Grimm? How is that possible? I liked that show, but. . ." He trailed off, as the boar-like thing started running. Towards him. Angrily.

Swinging the trident, he set it, butt-first, into the ground to meet the boars attack, which was strong enough to shift his foot, both giving him a nasty bruise and knocking the trident out of his hands, which caused him to fall, the trident clattering to the floor, as the boarbatusk thing turned slowly, lining up for another run. Sam grabbed his trident off the ground, chambering the cannon concealed within the middle prong. He lined it up, and was about to take the shot when the boar put on a burst of speed that prevented him from firing his weapon accurately.

Sam triggered the weapon anyway, and a blast of scintillating energy shot from the muzzle of the weapon, hitting the boar in the head, which had no obvious effect.

The white patches must be armor or something, but at least the blast had an effect. It was hard for it not to have an effect, but he had faced plenty of things that were only marginally affected by it. At any rate, the thing had landed a pretty thumping whack to him and his weapon, which was fine, but too many more hits and it might get damaged.

It was swinging around for another thump, and this time, Sam began running towards the boar thing, turning the trident so that it faced the monster. Gathering speed, he ran past the side of it, slashing as he did so. Unfortunately for him, the beast also slashed, sending him flying, only to hit a pillar of stone with a crash that forced every molecule of air from his lungs. Landing with a woof, he stayed still for a moment, listening to the forest, the birds, the gasps of pain from his bruised back, the clouds scudding across the sky, and the boar thing that was trying to kill him.

Just as well, as he hobbled to his feet, and tried, largely successfully, to blot out the pain, long enough to find and pick up his weapon from the ground and fire up a blast from it at the boar thing. It jerked back, and he fired another one, and another one, shooting until the thing was dead.

"And then there were none," he muttered, only to curse as more rustling noises came from the tree line.

And then there was a . . . big, bird-like, swooping thing? The Morrigan, he called it, because it was like the Celtic deity of death and destruction. And wow, did that thing take the cake, even those massive feathers it was firing at him!

Much as discretion is the better part of valor, so is cowardice the better part of discretion, and the best part of cowardice is knowing when to run for the trees. Literally, in his case.

Sam grabbed up his backpack—thanks Luna he had finished packing it before the boarbatusk showed up—and ran, sticking his monster dooming fork into its sheath, before sprinting towards the oak and pine and balsa and cork trees that littered the horizon.

It was with a heavy heart that he abandoned the place that was now being overrun with these weird Grimm things, but he could have some fun with them. As he ran, he pulled out a box of matches and yanked out a dozen matches, looking along the tree line for where he had to drop the now lit match. There! The string poked out of the dirt, and Sam dropped the matches there, pocketing the box, running even faster, because if he wasn't out of there by the time the matches hit the fuse, then he would be in deep—

That was what he had been waiting for, and now there was a sudden pain and a long kiss good night.


	2. Chapter 2: Drinking the Water

The thing he saw upon waking up was stars. It was nice to see stars again, but these were not the stars he recognized. They were . . . different.

There were also people. All around him. Talking. Wondering why this kid was on the ground. And why he had a fork on his back. Sighing, he sat up and looked around, studying the background.

People were good, and there were Faunus? They had animal features, and were almost everywhere. Sam turned around, and saw that there was a shop labeled as a dust shop, which seemed interesting, he'd been hoping to find Licky End somewhere, which you could only get if you were a pregnant sheep. He knew a dog that had it, somewhere, but he'd been not seen for years. Or a year or two at least.

Shaking himself, he saw that a group of people came down the street, and they were obviously bad news, seeing as people shrank away and the very street seemed to darken around them. Come to think of it, he could have sword I heard a voice over somewhere, but it must have been a hallucination. Sam thought that he had stopped drinking the water, but it didn't matter. He shrank back, and pulled his trident out of its sheath, still carrying his backpack.

The men mostly wore dark suits and sunglasses, but there was one guy with a cane and a weird haircut, and really long eye lashes, which gave him a unique look. A strange thing was that he didn't seem to need the cane, he held it, but he didn't walk with it, and he had no obvious limp. The guy looked around, then, motioning to the others to enter the shop. As they did so, Sam followed, trying to remain inconspicuous, as a robbery was in effect. There was about five seconds of silence, followed by what proved to be a bloody Sunday: some bruiser crashed through the window, shattering it and the still night air. A young rapidly followed, as did the rest of the bruisers, and the fight began in earnest. Sam joined in, to the surprise of the red and black girl, and thus spoke Zarathustra.

"I hope you realize that your actions tonight will not be taken lightly, young lady. You put yourself and others in great danger!" said the woman standing before the brightly lit desk in the dark room.

"They started it," responded Ruby Rose.

"If it were up to me, you'd be sent home with a pat on the back," a smile from both Glynda—the scary professor and huntress—and Ruby, "and a slap on the wrist!" She said, emphasizing the phrase by smacking the table in front of the girl with what looked like a riding crop.

"But . . . there is someone here who wishes to see you." And in walks a guy in green, carrying a cane, obviously not needing it, just like that legionnaire dude, carrying a plate of cookies in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Ruby Rose. You have silver eyes." It was an observation, not a question.

". . ."

"So! Where did you learn to do this?" He asked, holding what looked like a tablet sort of computer, showing multiple video feeds with a primary feed showing Ruby fighting. Unfortunately, Sam couldn't avoid the camera feed, and he was there.

"S-Signal Academy," Ruby stuttered, and looked adorably awkward.

"They taught you to use one of the most dangerous weapons ever designed?"

"Well, one teacher in particular," said Ruby, starting to regain her confidence. The older man set the plate of cookies down, and Ruby grabbed one, looking hesitant. Eating it in one bite, she rapidly consumed the others. He continued.

"It's just that I've only ever seen one other scythe-wielder of that skill before. A dusty, old crow. . ."

"Oh! That's my uncle!" She was almost unintelligible, due to the cookies in her mouth. "Sorry. I was complete garbage until my Uncle Qrow took me under his wing. Now I'm like"—she demonstrates karate-like moves, and emitting appropriate noises.

"So I've noticed," he said, as he sat down opposite here. Sam noticed that Goodwitch was still standing in the corner, so that she had a clear view of anyone coming into the door, which was an odd thing to be paranoid about, but nevertheless. He continued, saying

"And what is an adorable girl such as you doing at a school designed to train warriors?" He asked her, and Ruby's enthusiastic tone seemed to have been toned down, just a little.

"Well, I want to be a Huntress," Ruby said, her voice gaining a note of seriousness, though she was still joyful.

"You want to slay monsters?" the other guy asked, sounding as though he was asking it . . . as a question. Not interrogating her, not already knowing the answer, just, asking the question. Sam might have been wrong, but that sure was what it seemed like to him.

"Yeah! I only have two more years of training left at Signal! And then I'm going to apply to Beacon! You see, my sister's starting there this year, and she's trying to become a Huntress, and I'm trying to become a Huntress 'cause I want to help people. My parents always taught us to help others, so I thought, Hey, I might as well make a career out of it! I mean the police are alright, but Huntsmen and Huntresses are just so much more romantic and exciting and cool and really, gosh, you know!" Ruby almost flips out at the last, sounding incredibly happy. When she calms down, Ozpin, Goodwitch and Ruby study each other across the table. The older professor spoke up.

"Do you know who I am?"

"You're Professor Ozpin. You're the headmaster at Beacon."

"Hello," he said, smiling.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"You want to come to my school?"

"More than anything," Ruby said, and Ozpin and Goodwitch glanced at each other. Goodwitch harrumphed and Ozpin turned back to Ruby.

"Well, okay then." As Ozpin said this, Ruby squeed in delight, and the two professors smiled, though Goodwitch barely let a sliver moon sliding through.

"And you, young man? Would you be interested in attending my academy?" For the first time, Ozpin turned to Sam, quirking an eyebrow at him. He started, and then sat a little straighter in the chair he had been sitting slouched in.

"Sounds marvelous, Professor Ozpin," Sam responded, and he nodded.

"Are you sure that that was the wisest thing to do? The Rose girl has credentials, but that Phoenix kid, he has none at all." Goodwitch waited until the two were out of the small, darkly-lit room, until she raised her comments regarding Beacons two newest students.

"Do you not recall how they both fought? That was at least half a dozen human attackers, and they both handled them with efficiency and speed, neither of them garnering a scratch," Ozpin responded, motioning towards the tablet he held in his hand, still replaying the footage of the fight between Roman's henchmen and Ruby and Sam.

"Still, there are no combat schools of which I am aware that train their students to use tridents, or in that combat style. It would be a wise idea to monitor him further, him and his activities," he said, which seemed to appease Goodwitch.

"I can't believe my baby sister is going to beacon!" the blond girl was saying, as Sam walked onto the airship. It was incredibly difficult to find her, after she went through the park and the business section, but a few years of tradecraft had made that one problem that he could deal with. He spotted her, and went over, holding out his hand as he went.

"Hello there, never did get a chance to introduce myself at the dust shop, or after. The name's Sam Phoenix, who might you be?" He asked, trying to be diplomatic.

"Oh, hey Sam! I'm Ruby Rose, and this is my sister Yang Xiao Long!" Ruby shook my hand, and Yang nodded at me, distinctly unhappy to see a guy with her sister, it seemed to him. And Yang, for her part, had yet to hear the story of what had happened, beyond the brief news story of 'two teens halt dust robbery'; Ruby had been in no state to talk after last night, in fact, the only thing she could say was that she was going to Beacon. Maybe now Yang could extract the story from them, and take the opportunity to make sure this guy stayed away from her sister.

"Little Sun Dragon? Well met, Yang, Ruby. Those were some smooth moves you pulled back there, fighting those men," Sam said, looking at her, knowing what her background was, but still not entirely able to believe what she had done. Yang pulled her sister into a hug, looking over her shoulder as she did so, staring at him, and mouthing: _You hurt her, I'll kill you_. Sam nodded, thinking that he would have to stay away from her. For now, at least.

Ruby had broken away from the iron embrace of her angry—at Sam, at least—sister, when a picture came up onto a nearby window, along with a voice over. Sam and Ruby recognized the guy in the picture as the guy who had tried to rob the store, and kill them both. Not the best way to make an introduction.

"The robbery was perpetrated by notorious criminal Roman Torchwick, who continues to evade capture. If you have any information pertaining to his whereabouts, please contact the Vale police department immediately. Back to you, Lisa.

"Thank you, Cyril. In other news, this Saturday's Faunus Civil Rights protest turned dark when members of the White Fang disrupted the ceremony. The once peaceful organization has now disrupted"—the reporters voice was cut off as the head of the Professor from yesterday appeared.

"Hello, and welcome to Beacon."

"Who's that?" Yang asked, and was immediately answered,

"My name is Glynda Goodwitch."

"Oh."

Goodwitch continued: "You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world." She disappeared, and Ruby raced to a window, peering out of it as her sister and Sam followed.

"Oh wow, you can see Signal from up here!" Ruby sounded happy, but they looked like a jumble to Sam. Yang scanned the skies, and found Signal. It was a tall, pointed spire in the middle of the city of Vale. "Guess home isn't too far after all!" Her older sister responded somberly.

"Beacon's our home, now." Just after that, there was a guy a few yards away, who didn't seem to be dealing with the motion well.

Then he ran off-stage, spewing, well, spew everywhere. While Ruby verbally hoped about was going to happen, and friends she was going to make, Yang whined about Vomit-boy getting puke all over her shoes. New ones, too, apparently.

**A/N's: well crash queens and moto babies, don't expect a whole lotta fan service. More like author service. I will try to keep it to the episodes, but it WILL diverge. Obviously. Sam Phoenix is in other stories, but he mostly exists as a headcanon character. And I will now flatly deny that he is a self-insert character. Search for "Another Casting of the Cards" on fimfiction, and you will see what I mean. Probably going to expound on him a lot more in the following chapters, especially his magic. And yes, he uses a trident, with a gun in the middle, which is more of a cannon than anything.**

**If you have read this far, please leave a review; I might not be doing this for the readers but I still like knowing what they think. **


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting the People, Part One

While the group sat in the transport plane, Sam thought about his name, and what he had seen. He grinned, and concentrated, drawing on his magic to change his body. It was surprisingly easy, who knew how, to add a pair of wings to his shoulder blades, and alter his body chemistry on a molecular level. It hurt, and he couldn't keep from letting out a little shriek of pain before stuffing his fist in his mouth. He was surprised he hadn't thought of it before, and hopefully it would come in handy later. For chuckles and giggles, he changed his hair colour, to a combination of red, white, yellow, and black: the colours of a phoenix.

o.O.o

The new students walked off the airship, with a guy heaving his guts up over in the corner. Ruby was busy freaking out over all the weapons, sounding really enthusiastic about all of them.

"So, where do we go, Yang?" Ruby asked, as Yang suddenly found her friends and ran off, leaving a confused Ruby to fall into a girl's luggage. Sam helped her up as the girl, who had a white theme going on, blue-fading-to-white skirt, white belt, and white boots and leggings, with a white rapier –who uses a rapier? That's like using a toothpick, utterly pointless- started laying into her. Princess grabbed one of the cases and yanked out a glass case of what looked like dust, lower case 'd.'

"Do you even know what this is?"

"Umm . . ."

"Do you have any idea how much damage you could have caused?!"

"I-I'm sorry!"

"Give me that! This is Dust - mined and purified from the Schnee quarry!" And by power of assumption, we can assume that this is Weiss Schnee. Delighted.

"Uhm . . ."

"What are you, brain dead?!" At this point, the girl grabbed one of bottles and started waving it around. What was she expecting, fireworks? That could always be arranged.

"I-I know. . ."

Are you even listening to me? Is any of this sinking in? What have you got to say for yourself?!"

Finally, the fireworks we had all been waiting for happened, with the dust vapours combining into an explosion. Sam had just stepped forward and opened his mouth to defend his friend, when he found himself on his back, his new wings aching. Everybody got up, as the red bottle she had been waving around rolled its way onto the feet of a black-clad girl, who picked it up and rolled it so that the label was facing her. The snooty girl in white continued angrily.

"Unbelievable! This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about!" Sam finally stepped in, as he was fed up with this girl messing with his friend.

"Would you mind laying off her? She said she was sorry, alright? And why do you have to be so angry about it, princess?"

"It's heiress, actually."

The girl in black walked over, holding the bottle of dust.

"Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee dust company. The largest producer of energy propellant in the world." Weiss looked smug, until the other continued talking.

"A company infamous for its controversial labor forces and questionable business partners."

Weiss stalked off, mumbling "how dare you's" and "the impudence of!" as she did so.

"Can you believe her?" Sam asked Ruby and the other girl, but the other girl had just fled, presumably away from sam, before he could make any more weird remarks, or maybe to read the book she had been studying. Ruby nodded before flopping onto the ground. Sam was about to offer his hand to help her up when a blonde guy helped her up. Sam stood back and watched as the hit it off.

"Hey. I'm Jaune." He introduced himself as he pulled Ruby to her feet.

"Ruby. Aren't you the guy who was throwing up on the ship?" He nodded and looked eager to change the subject.

"Aren't you the guy with a fork on his back and a really big sack of stuff?" he asked Sam, who nodded in turn and bowed extravagantly, the sack in question falling over his head.

"Why don't we go find the orientation, and talk on the way there?" Sam suggested, as they started walking.

o.O.o

"all I'm saying is that motion sickness is more common than people let on!"

"so what if I had called you crater face?"

"hey! That was an accident! And what can I say, vomit boy was the first thing that came to mind."

"Well, what if I called you crater face?" Jaune teased her, and she blushed.

"Hey, that explosion was an accident!"

"Well, the name's Jaune Arc! Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue—and ladies love it.

"Do they?" Ruby and Sam asked.

"They will! Well, I-I hope they will. My mom always says that... Never mind."

"That friends are just people you haven't met yet?" Sam finished his sentence, and he continued.

"So . . . I've got this thing," Ruby says, as she pulls out Crescent Rose and creates a scythe-blade shaped hole in the pavement. That thing went deep, few inches at least.

"Whoa! Is that a scythe?" Jaune asked like he'd never seen one before.

"It's also a customizable high-impact sniper rifle!"

"A what?"

"It's also a gun." Ruby cocks the gun and grins, as Jaune looks even more dejected and looks at Sam.

"And what have you got?"

"Well, I have a range of weapons available to me, but most of the time, I use a retrofittable, high-output Gauss cannon trident." Ruby's eyes blazed as he said the first part, but Jaune jumped back a little as he whipped the trident out and stuck it in the ground. It was close to twice Sam's height, but he had practiced with it a lot; when you have time on your hands, you want to do stuff that is beneficial.

"Eh?" Sam chose to obliquely answer Jaune's one word question, instead handing the trident to Ruby and creating a tear, pulling a captive military target simulation dummy through it.

"Stick the target, and tell the trident to shoot."

Ruby didn't need a second telling, and indeed looked overjoyed to be handling the weapon.

o.O.o

Sam didn't need to put the dummy away, because the biggest piece of it after she pulled the trigger was nowhere to be found, and Sam turned to Jaune.

"So, what have you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Apologies, I meant, what's your weapon?" Jaune looked little short of dejected when he pulled out his sword, attaching his shield to his other arm.

"I, uh, I got this sword! And this shield."

"So, what do they do?" Ruby sounded genuinely interested, and Jaune fumbled with the items before he put the shield away and spoke again.

"The shield gets smaller, so when I get tired of carrying it, I can just... put it away..."

"But, wouldn't it weigh the same?"

"Yeah, it kinda does. . ."

"Well, I'm kind of a dork when it comes to weapons, so I guess I did go a little overboard when designing it."

"Wait, you designed that?!"

"Yeah, all students at Signal have to forge their own weapons. How did you come by yours?"

"It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war."

"Sounds more like a family heirloom to me! I like it, not many people have respect for the classics these days."

"Yeah, the classics."

"So, why'd you help me out back there? In the courtyard?"

"Eh, why not? My mom always says, 'strangers are just friends you haven't met yet'."

"Hm. Where are we going?"

"Oh, I don't know, I was following you! You'd think there'd be a recognizable landmark of some sort? Anything? Is that a no?"

"It's a no, Jaune."

o.O.o

Notes of the author: I have decided to abandon the God/ third person point of view in favor of first person point of views, though third person might be an option at some point. Also, I might or might not do regular updates, we shall, or not, see. Finally, I write like I talk, and I write like I think, so if it is a little strange to you, you have three choices: one. Solve the question of how do I think, and satisfy your curiosity. Two. R&R. (which I read only a few hours ago, and apparently means read and review?) three. Stop reading the story, if it bothers you that much. Four. Write your own story, featuring Sam Phoenix, which I can guarantee you, you will not get correct. Five. Wonder how Tomla134 can't count.


	4. Chapter 4: Meeting the People, Part Two

_Notes of author: like I said in the last AN, I'm going to be doing first person point of views. So. That is that. Review if you want, but they are your choices to make, and your life isn't mine to live. Oh, and if you wanted a White Rose fic, then you are not getting it. *reassures self, audience* Not that this is going to be a revenge fic, I'm not that evil. I place people I despise as main characters in epic poems that are like Greek tragedies, a tragedy in the modern sense, not a Greek-term tragedy. *sighs*to clarify, it will be a . . . an orange rose (OC, orange county, orange . . .?) OCxRose, YangxBlake, JaunexPyrrha. I can try my hardest to put them all in, but, once again; it might or might not work. The last two or so fanfics I did flopped because there were too many characters, and I am crazy enough that it was too difficult to keep them all straight. Mind you, it was an MLP and CSI: NY crossover, so there were well over a dozen main characters and the other one was a Grimm (the NBC show, not the RWBY antagonist) and MLP crossover, so half a score characters there. Next MLP crossover, two of the mane six are main characters, if that. Scratch that, one of the mane six and one, two at most of the other canon characters. Maybe that's why Another Casting of the Cards went so well for me. Maybe also cause I wrote it down, unlike the other ones. I am outlining this story though, so it comes full circle._

_ALSO I don't care if you think white rose is the best thing since dead bodies, let me, the author, tell you, the reader, that I won't. Write. A bloody. White. Flaming. Rose. Yes, a white bloody flaming rose I will not do. _

_Bonus points if you can spot what other canons appear and/or I use in this story._

_Finally, it's not a self insert, search – I think I'm repeating myself here but I'll say it again—for another casting of the cards on fimfiction. _

_All right, all you crash queens and motor babies listen up! The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary; it's time to do it now, and do it proud! Killjoys, make some noise!_

.-. ..- -... -.—

(POV of Ruby)

Sam was staring off into space, as we waited for something to happen. I simply stared over at him, and he suddenly laughed, throwing back his head and attracting the attention of a large portion of the nearby people. At the same time, I saw he had a livid scar on his neck, literally from ear to ear. It looked like he had gotten his throat cut. After noting that little tidbit of ask-later, I noted another scar decorating his face: this one ran over his right eye, crossing his nose, and ended above his lip, and looked bad, though largely healed up.

"What was that about?" I asked him, eying the scars for another second before tearing my gaze away.

"Nothing," he said, smiling.

"Okay," I said, as my sister yelled at us.

... .- -

(Sam POV)

Jaune seemed a little confused that we were all separating, and I went with him, as Ruby and Yang started to discuss her explosion in front of the school. Weiss appeared, and I chuckled.

"Ah, great. Where am I supposed to find another nice, quirky girl to talk to?" Jaune sighed, apparently oblivious to my presence.

"Well, to start with, you have me, or Pyrrha, over there," I said, striking a pose. He stared in horror at me, apparently not taking in the sarcasm dripping from my voice so thickly you could have showered in it. Or bottled it up and sold it for pretty pence. Or bottled it and thrown it in a food fight. Or. . .

"I'm joking dude, only joking a little," I said, to reassure him, which didn't prevent him from casting me a worried glance.

"So, you're Sam, right?" He asked me, clearly trying to move onto a new subject.

"Nowadays," I responded, looking around. I tried to recall any of that damn show, RWBY, and recalled that wasn't there also a team JNPR? And a team CRDL. But let's start with—well, Ruby, we already met here, Yang, check, Weiss, well, yes, Blake—aha. Over there. Reading a book. Well, if events here stick to the episode, which is questionable, cause I'm here, but at the same time, I'm here and all this has happened, sticking to the episodes, so it reasons to follow that I'm not causing a noticeable butterfly effect, of course, all that could change in the next day, or it could not, but it probably won't, of course, the only way to find out is to continue and play the game. Or not. How about a nice game of chess?

"You okay?" Jaune asked, as I zoned back in; I guess I had fallen into an old, occasionally bad, always strange, habit of making faces as I talked to myself.

"Sometimes, why?"

"Uh, you were making faces. Kind of scaring me," He said, glancing at me crossways.

.- .- ..- -. .

(Jaune POV)

I glanced at him sideways; he seemed nice enough, but at the same time, there was something off about him. There'd be time to find out later, but I was distracted by Weiss, gesturing at me, calling me . . . tall, blonde, and scraggly? I waved back at her, and decided to wander over. Sam trailed me, and I wondered about his comments. Only joking a little? Sometimes, why? Pushing those thoughts away, I made it to the girls in time to hear Weiss finishing her sentence.

"Really?" Ruby asked, sounding enthusiastic.

". . ."

"NO."

Then that guy, Ozpin, came up onstage and the room quieted somewhat. The headmaster glanced at his assistant, or whatever her position was, Glynda Goodwitch, before beginning to speak.

"I'll... keep this brief. You have traveled here today in search of knowledge - to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step." Ozpin stepped back, as the other professor stepped forward.

"You will gather in the ballroom tonight; tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed." The two stepped off the stage, and I turned to my friends.

"That was weird, it was almost like he wasn't here," I said, and Sam nodded, as did the others.

"I'm a natural blonde, you know."

The others promptly facepalmed.

... .- - .-.-.- / - .-. -.- / ... - . -. .- -. - -. .-. .- .-. ... -.- / .- -. -..

I wandered into the ballroom, carrying, as always, my massive backpack that had everything I needed. I looked for a spot to sleep, and saw none, so I wandered around.

.-. ..- -... -.- .-.-.- / -.- - ..- / ... . . / - ... .. ... / .. ... / - - .-. ... . ..-..

I saw that Sam was looking around, carrying that backpack of his, and he looked a little lonely, so I waved him over. He strolled over, somehow managing to look like he wasn't carrying anything, even though that was a really big pack. And that big fork he had couldn't very comfortable, and it clanged as he flopped down next to me.

"hey Ruby, hope you don't mind me grabbing this spot," Sam said, unshipping the pack and removing various pieces of gear, including what looked like a sleeping bag, a jacket, a cleaning kit of some sort, a black case, and a notebook, as well as a pair of swim trunks and a long sleeved shirt.

"No, no, not at all. I did invite you over here," I jokingly said, as he nodded and opened the case to reveal a pair of pistols unlike anything I had ever seen, and I know, because I'm a big weapons geek.

"What are those?" I asked, putting down my letter and glancing at the pistols.

"These? They are a pair of Variable Charge Elemental Discharge Hand Cannons. Usually they shoot electricity, but they could shoot, as their name implies, water or fire or stone or ice or sand or whatever. Haven't cleaned them in forever, and I just remembered I had them, so I decided to clean them. Might as well clean my trident too," he said, finishing his speech and gesturing to the weapon still strapped to his pack.

"Wow, c-can I try one?" I said, a little embarrassed to stutter over some of my words, as a vague part of me wondered, what else could he have in there?

"Sure," Sam said, swabbing out the barrel one last time and handing a pistol to me. I squeed a little, and flicked the safety off, as Sam yelled and ducked. The gun . . . didn't go off.

"Oh, sorry about that," he said, blushing a little, as he took the gun back, flicked the safety back on, racked the slide, and twisted a dial with his thumb. He stuck it back in the case, and cleaned the other one.

"What's your trident's name?" I asked, a little alarmed, but determined to learn more.

"It doesn't have one. I know it should, but I never named it. Should I have had done thus?"

"Well, of course, silly! Our weapons are only the most important part of us as hunters and huntresses!" I told him. Shouldn't he know this already? I mean, weapons are what protect us from the creatures of Grimm! Sam paused in his cleaning, and seemingly pondered what I had told him.

"How about Something Wicked?" he asked me, slowly glancing down at it. I nodded, but had to ask him something nevertheless.

"What does that mean?"

"Something Wicked This Way Comes?" I nodded, not really sure what to say. It seemed a fitting name, though one more appropriate for a sword than a trident.

Sam swabbed out the second pistol, and I had to ask him about them, too.

"What do you call those guns?"

"I guess I call them Gemina Terrores," he said, as he pulled Something Wicked towards him, and cleaned the muzzle by dint of grabbing a kerchief sized cleaning rag and putting his entire hand, up to the shoulder, into the muzzle of the weapon. That was how he was when my sister landed on him, eliciting a sharp snap and a low groan.

"It's like a big slumber party!"

"I don't think dad would approve of all the boys though," I said, still not looking up from what I was writing.

"You also happen to be sitting on one," a voice emanated from under her, making her jump off, as Sam appeared. He sat up in his sleeping bag, with his left arm still in the barrel of Something Wicked. His shoulder was at a strange angle, almost as though he was double jointed, but the tears in his eyes suggested something had happened.

"What happened to you?" She asked, as she stared down at him.

"I think you dislocated my shoulder," he said, and then he screamed, as he tried to put it back in. Everyone's head snapped to our direction, as he pulled his arm appeared from the weapon, now very dirty and dirt and grease and stuff-caked.

"Do you need us to take you to the infirmary or something?" I asked, as he rotated his arm.

... .- - .-.-.- / .- -. -.. / - -.. ...

"No, I'm fine," I said, still hurting a little, but I healed the injury with a combination of good old fashioned non-magical medicine and magic. Then I swore softly, because I had managed to drop the rag I was using to clean the weapon down the barrel of the weapon.

Sighing, I set Something Wicked against my leg and aimed it through an open skylight, setting the charge to super duper ultra hot, hot enough that it wouldn't even be visible. I set the weapon against my shoulder, feeling the spike dig into my shoulder. Holding my breath, I set it off, the kick driving the spike through my newly healed shoulder. It blasted through the skylight, and lanced into the sky; I aimed for the moon, and I would have enhanced my vision to see the crater it kicked up, but I was a little busy with the spike currently in my shoulder. I pulled it out, blood dripping from the spike, and the wound. Before it could get too bad, I healed the wound, and recreated the lost blood. The expenditure made me a little dizzy, but I sat up straighter and dealt with it.

I saw that Yang and Ruby had made their way over to Blake, and they got into a fistfight. Must be that they are sisters. I quickly put everything but my jacket and a small sewing kit away, leaving them and my sleeping bag on the ground. I hoisted it to my back, and walked over to the black-clad girl as Weiss stomped over, looking furious. I sat down next to her as Weiss started yelling, something about being a danger to health. A couple of people yelling? What a danger.

"I don't believe I officially got your name. Blake, isn't it," I said, and she didn't respond, other than a fractional hesitation in the turning of the page.

"And you are the guy that might want to scurry, because I'm blowing out the candles," she said, pausing with the candelabra in her hand. Seeing that I wasn't moving, she shrugged and blew out the candles.

-. - -..

There was more than enough light for the both of them to see, as there was, between them, three Faunus eyes and an artificial eye that did more than a human—or Faunus—eye did, except cry.

There was also more than enough noise for the both of them to speak, albeit low, not that the girl showed any desire to do thus.

"Why do you wear the bow?" Sam asked, lightly.

"Because I want to, why not? What does it matter to you?" the cat girl's tone was brusque.

"You want to hide who you are from everybody else? What you are?"

"What am I? What are you, to be asking?"

"Why, Blake, you are a cat Faunus. We can get to what I am later."

"Well, you might be perfectly accepting of what I am, but they aren't. And I don't want them to judge me for what I am, I want to be judged for who I am. And how could you tell?" She sounded angry at the first, but by the end, her tone softened to curious tinged with furious.

"Well, I won't tell your secret if you won't tell mine. I'm a Faunus too." He felt, rather than heard, her gasp, and knew that she would be looking him over, wondering what he was. Or, more accurately, what Faunus type he was.

"Is that what you meant, earlier? When you said we'd get to what you are later?"

"Oh, no, though that is very astute. I was just a little curious about you, is all," he said, as he staggered to his feet and proceeded to pick his way through the sleeping-bagged figures like a wraith.

Slowly slipping his pack to the ground, he found his bag and slid into it, next to where an almost dead-to-the-world Ruby lay.

"How'd you get back?" she drowsily asked, as he picked up the sewing kit, which he liked to think of as a sowing kit, and began to stitch up a hole in his jacket.

"I have a special eye," he said, and said nothing more, as he quickly finished the stitching in a few minutes and setting it down. Putting it all away, he put his head down to sleep for a few hours.

-. - -.. / .- -. -.. / ... - - . .- ... . .-. . / .. -. / - ... . / -.-. .. - -.-

Somewhere in the city of Vale, a figure tumbled from the sky, hitting the ground hard. Bouncing to his feet, he took a look at the new landscape, and smiled. A man in a tattered trench coat spotted him, and lurched toward him. A rusty knife appeared in his hand, and he raised his arm. Just as quickly, the arm shot back down, with several more joints appearing. A dull series of cracks echoed around the building, as the man scrambled away, screaming in pain. The knife flew into the air, and then dropped through the fallen man's chest. His screams and spasms ended, as did his life.

The standing figure turned from the mutilated corpse and spotted a building, rising from the countryside. A chainsaw appeared in his hand, spooling up silently as he stalked toward the building.

He paused a moment, and put the saw away, sticking it into nowhere. Whistling, he walked down the street, with a murderous glare in his eye.

There was an old friend of his in there, and he wanted to renew their acquaintance.

AN: welcome to the phoenix verse, or the mayateck verse if you want. Aaaaaand with the end of chapter four, we meet the Three, the joker to Sam's batman.


	5. Chapter 5: Rainbow and Three

_Of all the words of mouth and pen, the worst are these: it might have been._

... .- -

I woke up, staring at the high ceiling. The room was almost pitch dark, but I could still see, thanks to my special eyes. Or, more accurately, my one Faunus eye and my one artificial eye. I still had to extract vengeance for that, but for now, I got out of my sleeping bag and pulled a few things from my backpack: a rappelling harness, several thousand feet of rope, and a gris-gris, for the way down.

I clipped the gris-gris onto my belt, slung the rope around my shoulders, and put the harness on over my armour, stretching my arms up to give myself room.

I crept out of the room, hoping that I hadn't been spotted, and slipped into the main hall. There was a large chandelier, various doors, and a massive staircase. I had just come from a rather grand door, marked with a simple plaque as the ballroom. I searched the doors until I came to one marked 'ROOF ACCESS: RESTRICTED ACCESS/UNAUTHORIZED PERSONELL VERBOTEN' and tried the handle. Locked, obviously, so I slipped my lock pick wallet out of my pocket and knelt to open the door.

I got it open, went inside, and closed the door behind me. I took a minute to think through what I was doing. Coming to a conclusion, I grabbed my climbing gear and stuck my arm out into nowhere, putting the gear away. I pulled my arm out of nowhere and removed a parachute harness. Climbing up the ladder, I opened the hatch and climbed onto the roof. Opening a tear to the upper atmosphere, I stepped into a part of the world where your life slipped away, where the stars were so far away, and so close. These were beautiful stars, but I recognized none of them.

The force of gravity tugged at me, and I turned to face the increasing gravitational forces. I was a number of miles up, and I took the time to look around, scanning with my artificial eye to see if— and there we have magical traces. Interesting, the Semblances of this world didn't set it off, which was strange, because from what I knew, that stuff was magic, but it would have set off what amounted to my magic radar if it was radar, which it obviously is not. While I was up here, I opened a hole to nowhere and pulled out a Stalin's Fist, positioning it in what I hoped was a Langragian point. Anyway, it was far enough up that it wouldn't move, but I would have to check it every now and again. While I was here, I reached, again, into nothingness and pulled out a spy satellite, with an uplink to my neural chip. Which I never used anymore, except for a very few weapons and items, such as this.

I pointed my head towards the ground, and turned my leg into a really big bore cannon, and my arm into auto cannon, and my other arm into a sniper, using them all to propel myself towards the ground at an impressive speed. I was far enough up that the rounds wouldn't fall to earth, and they wouldn't be heard, either. For now, at least.

- ... .-. . .

Only one thing I had to do, and that was to carve . . . there. One set of arcane, vaguely creepy, cryptic symbols, and two words, meaningless to all but me and him.

... .- -

I had fun until I parachuted out near the edge of the city, far enough that nobody would see me, and close enough that I could still get to the other person in time. When I landed, which was painful, I stopped to stash my equipment in nowhere and select a new change of clothes. I took a long hard think, and opened my eyes to a new body and a rather overwhelming exhaustion, one that I pushed away.

I strolled to where I had last seen the magic signature, and turned a corner to see something I had dreaded seeing: two words, and a symbol.

I saw a guy turning down a side street, a guy I knew. Or, he knew Sam. Not this new body that I was raring to try. I had been planning it for months, and it was magnificent. I called it Rainbow, because that's what it was. Rainbow. Not in every aspect, but all the memorable ones.

You could say that's what I was now, and indeed, as I walked towards the guy, I pulled out a scroll and a purse from nowhere, and stared down at it, like I as a mindless twit. Which I kind of was. You have to get into the role, so I was a mindless twit.

Making a mental note to keep an auto revolver and china lake grenade launcher on me when I switched out of the role, I stepped into the role, literally and physically.

- ... .. ... .. ... - ... . ...- .. . .- - ..-. ... .- -

Three was thinking hard when someone rammed into him. He fell over and rolled to take the fall, bouncing to his feet as soon as he could, turning to behold—a young girl, about his appearing age, in a brown skirt, with a small purse. A thing was on the ground, near her, and she struggled to her feet, helped by the hand he put out to her.

"S-sorry about t-that," she stuttered, collecting her thing from the ground, and putting it in her purse.

"That's okay," he said, and smiled, turning and continuing his course. With but a moment's hesitation, she followed.

"Sorry I knocked you over," she said.

"You have already stated that," he said, bluntly, she thought.

There was a moment of silence.

"so, where ya going?"

"I don't know. You?"

". . ."

"I need some Dust," she said, panicking a little.

"At approximately," he glanced at the black on black on black watch on his wrist," three-thirty o-clock?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I just needed some Dust, so I went out to get some."

"What's Dust?" he asked, without an gram- avoirdupois – of sarcasm.

"Where are you from that you don't know what Dust is? Are you normal?"

"Somewhere; and not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"I answered the questions in the order you asked them."

"Um, okay."

Thirty yards later, Rainbow stepped into a Dust shop, and, having nothing better to do, he followed.

As Rainbow browsed the magazines in the corner and Three wandered around the shop, a guy with orange hair and long eyelashes rolled in, with a bunch of guys in tow.

By this point, Three had put on headphones and a music player, and Rainbow had read half of the magazine rack, and then it all became just a lot of blurring.

In point of fact, Three's combat strategy involved both shaping knives and swords out of shadows and calling them from nowhere, and the intruders were rapidly defeated.

Eyelash dude was on the roof by this point, and Three followed with due diligence.

"Hey, Eye-lash Guy!"

"What is it with you young bloods that like to interfere with adult stuff- hey, little boy, you mind if I call you Youngblood, fits you nicely, eh?" he cackled, and threw a piece of Dust at him. Cackling again, he raised his cane and fired a sparkly little ball.

It hit the crystal and exploded. Glynda saw this, and sprinted towards him, but she wasn't enough to prevent him from being blasted into bits. She hoped that he had the time to create a shield of aura to at least attenuate the force, but he was scattered in little pieces that made even Glynda heave. She had descended the fire escape and was talking to the girl when, unbeknownst to her, the little bits began shifting back together. Actually, they melted into a pool of black shadow, and then stood into a pillar of black, from which stepped a man with the new name Youngblood.

The girl was being put in a squad car—bloody useless, the police were, thought Goodwitch and Rainbow alike—when the guy descended the latter.

"Are you that guy"—

"Yes."

"How did you"—

"It's a special skill of mine," he said, tired after dying and having to be reborn. It hurt, and he would have a new set of burn scars, but other than a temporary exhaustion and an overwhelming hunger, he would be fine.

Before long the pair was in a police station, and rainbow was quickly released, as she was a witness. Glynda held Three for a while longer though.

A short conversation later, Youngblood was enrolled at Beacon.

Before Ozpin left, Three asked him one question.

"Do you have a student named Sam Phoenix?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we do. Only recently enrolled, in much the same circumstances as you. In fact, you should probably get to Beacon, as initiation is tomorrow. Wouldn't want you to miss it." Three nodded, and stepped out of the room after the two professors.

. .-.. ... . .- ... . .-. . / .. -. / - ... . / -.-. .. - -.- / - ..-. / ...- .- .-.. .

Rainbow had stepped out of the police station and promptly stepped into an alley, so that she could turn back into Sam, which they tried to do with a minimum of noise, but he decided to keep her rainbow her, seeing what how it looked much better than his weird flame hair.

Hiking back up to Beacon, and slipping in was easy, as was catching a few more hours of sleep before he woke early for initiation. Before he fell asleep, he pulled out his specialized China Lake gun, modified for lever action, as well as modified to be a rifle and grenade launcher combo. If need be, it could operate as pump action. Before he put it into a sheath, he pulled a receiver and an auto revolver from nowhere. Rapidly switching the China Lake gun's receiver with the one he had, he put it into a sheath he put across his back, next to his trident.

Looking the auto revolver over, he put it into a side pocket of his backpack. He had a new trick he wanted to try at initiation.

Finally putting his head on his jacket, he quickly fell into a deep, if short, sleep.

**AN**

**Lots of fun, all around eh. Google mateba auto revolver and china lake grenade launcher. Obviously not really those. And fun things next edition.**


	6. Chapter 6: Initial Initiation, Part One

**AN **

**Hello all you crash queens and motor babies, just a little more authors notes. Been working on this, and my Eagle Project, for several weeks now—actually since I started this story derp—and I know there is something that I want to say here but I can't figure out what it is. Sorry I just infodumped this here and thus permit me now to tell thee of a further chapter of the story of Sam. Oh, and if you want to know how to pronounce Yang's name, like Three and Sam pronounce it, go to the wiki. I ain't gonna take the time to type three more letters than I have to. I have talked to my Chinese speaking friends and aside from making noises that are entirely non-descriptive, they basically agreed that it's two syllables a word, not two. However, we can assume that it is permissible to pronounce her name as it is in the show, considering that there might or might not be a China in Remnant, which brings up the interesting linguistic and ethnic question of how an Oriental name came from a place that has no Orient, but that's for a different essay. **

**Not what I wanted to say, but maybe I'll think of it as this is punched out.**

**Oh oh oh shout out to followers/favorites: Ryuuto Raizel**

_If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything._

Chapter Six: Initial Initiation

Three rolled into the locker room in time to run into a girl in red and black. Reminded horribly of last night, he lay on the floor, wondering how in the name of Cthulhu the unholy he managed to run into two people in the same day.

"Um, hey there," she said, also from the floor.

"Hello there." Three jumped to his feet and helped the other girl to hers. He continued his search for his locker, and the girl ran next to him. He continued to walk, pausing after ten yards to stop.

"Why do you follow me? I expect you wish to know my name, and thus I will give you my name, both of them, in fact. Some people call me Three Youngblood, and I hope that you, too, can accept my by that name. You as well, miss," he said, turning to the yards-distant blondie.

"Why don't we go this way?" the red-themed girl asked as she led him over to her locker. He obediently followed, and she introduced herself and the other girl.

"This Blondie over here is named—"

"Yang Xiao Long. What sort of a name is Three, anyway?"

"Mine. Who are you to talk, considering you are pronouncing your own name wrong?"

"How would you know how I'm pronouncing my name? It is my name!" she sounded indignant, probably rightfully so.

"I would know, because I speak Chinese, Little Sun Dragon. Or Yah-ng She-ow Loh-ng, if that's your name." Yang responded to this by glaring at him, and muttering his name under her breath. And a few choice curses to boot.

"I should get prepared for the initiation. I wish you the best of luck." His voice carried no joy, no hatred, no nothing. There was no inflection to his tone, which Ruby commented on as he walked away.

"Didn't you get the sense there was something off about him?" Ruby asked her sister.

"Yeah, he went around, acting like he knew more about me and my name than I did. What was that about little sun dragon, anyway?" she responded.

"That guy was kind of rude," Ruby agreed, staring at where he had disappeared.

. -.- . ... / - ..-. / ... .- -

I dangled my feet over the edge, and pulled my China Lake gun from its scabbard, experimentally firing a few rounds into the forest.

Honestly, I felt that my actions lacked their normal joy, even pumping—wait, never mind. There we go.

The repetitive actions of aiming the gun at a random tree, chambering a round, regaining my sight picture, holding my breath for five seconds, pulling the trigger, watching it hit a completely different tree and repeating became soothing, and I even started to enjoy it.

In order to keep time better, I reached into my backpack and pulled out a pair of headphones, really nice ones that had a black cloud and a thunderbolt on one side, and a circled "A" on the other. I cranked the sound to eleven, and picked up the pace, my moving arms becoming blurs of motion as the rounds thudded into the forest.

Switching the weapon to rifle mode, I cooed with joy as the rounds started hitting their mark. I started small, fifty yards, then moved in roughly twenty-five yard increments. It had been awhile since I had felt this much contentment.

Reaching four hundred yards, I clicked on the safety and then pulled a scope from my pack, as well as a saber. The first I slipped onto the rifle, the second I strapped onto my belt, adjusting the buckles for a good fit and a silent ride.

Using the scope, I shot until I couldn't see where I was shooting.

Switching it to auto revolver, I repeated the process, with moderately decreased accuracy. I stopped at three hundred yards. Any farther and there would have been no point in keeping on, seeing how my hand was shaking so badly, and bullet drop would have made it incredibly difficult to accurately aim. Either way, three hundred yards with a pistol, even one with a six inch barrel, wasn't too bad.

Sheathing the China Lake gun, I pulled an arrow quiver and a collapsed recurve from my pack. Buckling on the quiver, I rapidly put together the bow with the practice that comes of countless repetition.

Testing the draw, I was pleased to discover that it was still one hundred and fifty pounds, just the same as I had left it. Just to be sure, I pulled a small force gauge from the bottom of the quiver and drew it back twenty six inches, and sure enough, it was a hundred and fifty pounds.

Repeating my target practice, I called the arrows back to my quiver when I ran out, and stopped when the arrows no longer reached their target.

Smiling, I fell backwards, exposing the faces of a resigned Ozpin and Goodwitch and a surprised Ruby.

"Wizard," I said to Ozpin, "Witch," said I to Goodwitch, "Ruby," to Rose.

"Your shooting would appear to be acceptable," said Ozpin, in a tone that stated that that was as much of a compliment as he would be willing to give.

"How could you see in the dark?" Goodwitch cut in, glaring at me as if I had failed to share the secret of the question of life, the universe, and everything.

.-.. - ... / - .- - ... / -.. . / .-. ..- -... ..

"Are you a faunus?" Goodwitch asked, not unkindly, and Sam nodded, almost dejectedly, it seemed. He raised his hand, cupped it around his eye, and used his other hand and pulled—

I threw up. He had pulled his eye out of its socket! And it was. . . . strangely enough, it wasn't bloody and gooey, it just had this weird oil all over it, looking almost like gun oil. I knew what that looked like, cause of how much I used on Crescent Rose, my sweetheart.

Sam reached up, still on his back, and proffered it to the professor, who took it with a look of faint disgust. I sidled over and poked it. It was a real eyeball, sitting on his palm.

"What does one do with this?" Ozpin asked the rainbow maned spook, who had righted himself, for some reason.

"Put it on your face," Sam responded, touching his forehead, cheeks, and nose. Ozpin raised his hand, and then put it down, giving it back to the prone Sam.

He shrugged, took it, and popped it back into his eye socket: a black hole in his face, pretty creepy.

"But yeah, I've had that for most of my unnatural life now. Night vision, zoom capabilities, removal capacity, retroactive edits possibilities, and a few other things. The range finder comes in mighty handy, as does the heads up display or the eyes down, really. Doesn't let me so much see it as put it right into my brain, and if I want, I can use it as a data link, but whatever works, ya know?" he fell silent, his voice barely audible over the music.

..-. .-. - - / - ... . / . -.- . ... / - ..-. / -. - -.. .-.-.-

After a moment, Ruby sat on the edge, not looking at him, but rather at the forest that would provide their initiation. He studied her profile, and then turned back to contemplate the forest, which was pocked with holes from the grenades and bullets, which were almost as big as the grenades, considering the rifle rounds were thirty millimeter and the grenades were forty.

"How did you lose your eye?" Ruby asked him, a long moment later.

"Guy named Three took it," he responded, with the air of one who hoped to retire with his remaining limbs intact, of which there were few indeed. He felt her freeze.

"What, know you something that I am not aware of?" he asked her.

"Is he. . . about your height, black hair, scar on the side of his face, skin as pale as the driven snow, doesn't show any life in his voice?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Her only response was the thumping beat, until Sam responded.

"You've . . . met him?" he asked, sounding vaguely horrified.

"Yeah, why? What's wrong with that?"

"It's just that he can be unpleasant, and extremely insidious. I would advise you to be extremely careful of how you deal with him," he said, shuddering at the memories he had of Three.

"When did you meet him?" he continued.

"Um, not long before you started shooting. I didn't like him that much," she said, with enough menace in her voice that Sam was momentarily taken aback.

"What makes you say that?" he asked her.

"He said my sister was pronouncing her own name wrong! I mean, who is that mean?" she asked, rhetorically he hoped.

"Three said that about Yang? He would, he's insensitive enough to do so, the little. . ." his speech trailed off into the 'not nice' category of descriptors, until they became other languages, though no kinder.

Sam turned to Ozpin, who still stood a short distance back.

"You accepted Three to your school, wizard? Why?" Sam asked, in a plaintive tone. Ozpin opened his mouth to speak, after taking a sip of coffee, but Sam waved him off, turning back to the forest. He, in turn, had just opened his mouth to speak when the rock they were sitting on let out a nasty little creak.

Ruby's eyes sparkled with fear as she scooted back; Glynda and Ozpin raced forwards as the rock collapsed, sending the two hurtling into space.


	7. Chapter 7: Initial Initiation, Part Two

Time for shout outs, new followers, reviewers, etc: SoMuchGerry

SoMuchGerry: Thank you for your helpful comments. I'm trying to balance the canon plot with Sam's backstory, and I have a terrible memory, so I'm kinda dancing around with all the balancing. Sam does have lots of problems, which hopefully will be underscored at some point, maybe even soon (what point is a story if there is no conflict?). Also, I am trying out the different point of views, I shall endeavour to do more first person sections, rather than third person. Thank you again for your helpful review.

The easiest way for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

-. - -..

Without thinking, Sam opened up a hole, putting the other end above the springboards. Focusing on his own, rapidly plummeting situation, he threw open another tear.

Unfortunately, he misjudged and fell from fifty, instead of the planned five, feet, landing hard on his back, and not helped by his weapons and armour and pack.

He lay there a moment, reflecting on his sins, and what he had done to earn this. He had done what he felt was right, at the time, and he still felt that it was the proper thing to do, but this. He didn't deserve this. Thankfully, nothing was broken; nothing, at least, that couldn't be regrown, remade, taped together, or forgotten.

A hand appearing within his vision, and it took him a moment to register that it wasn't descending towards his face. He had in fact curled up into a fetal ball to protect himself from the perceived threat. Ruby wondered what was going on, when he looked up and grabbed her hand, hauling himself to his feet and almost pulling her down in the process.

The two stared into each other's eyes, their faces just a hairsbreadth apart, until they separated with deep blushes on both their faces.

"Who did that? First there's the cliff going over, then she appears, and then he appeared," she said, nodding at each in turn. Sam raised his hand, looking appropriately sheepish.

"I, uh, I did that. I mean, I didn't make the cliff go over, but I opened up the holes," he explained, embarrassed, but then a little proud.

"How did you do that?" Blake asked him, and he turned to Pyrrha, seemingly ignoring Blake.

Sam opened his mouth to respond, when more people walked up.

"Sam?" Ruby asked him, as she followed his gaze to the trio of people.

When it became clear who they were, Sam snorted and turned away, putting away his modified China Lake gun, with which he had half a mind to gut Youngblood.

By the time other people had made their way to the springboards, Ozpin had declared it time to begin.

They made a speech, which Sam caught few enough words of, but enough to understand his mission. Get relic, bring back, don't die. First to see, they gonna be your partner for four years. Better make it count. Not that the dying part applied to him, or, gack, Three, now, did it? Though there were less conventional methods of killing their kind.

They were duly flung off the cliff, with the blonde kid, Jaune, asking about landing strategies. Landing strategies? What were those? They all made it off the cliff, except for Three and Sam. Jaune made it off the cliff, screaming madly, maybe, but off the cliff nevertheless.

Three just melted into his shadow, presumably for a more expedient method of locomotion to the temple, and Sam, who hit what seemed like an invisible wall.

As he fell to the ground, a smile broke out on his slightly bruised but rapidly healing face: not the painful grin of one who is enduring tragedy or pain and responds with a smile and a laugh, but rather it was the smile of one who hasn't seen a friend for a long time and has just bumped into them outside of a very small airport in a very foreign country.

Literally, it would seem.

Goodwitch and Ozpin watched as Sam carried on, in what seemed the perfect impression of an utter and total loon.

"Hey Lexx, long time no see! Actually it might be best if you carried on ahead, went to the temple that we are supposed to be going to, supposedly it's got relics and stuff, so, and that's that. Would you mind waiting there for me?" he finally managed to finish, ending with an explosive inhalation, and . . . . nothing. Seeing the faces of the professors, and knowing that looks could easily turn into something a lot more deadly, he answered their unspoken question.

"Lexx is a hellion, sort of a big cat-dog combo thing, the size of a bus, and not a species you want pissed at you. Long story short, Lexx is one of a kind, even for a hellion," Sam said, choosing to skip the full explanatory sequence, and running off the cliff, opening a tear to—

Yang and Blake hadn't seen each other yet, but when they ran towards the hole in the ground, Blake, Yang and Sam, all saw each other.

"Oh. You again. Hello," Yang said, apparently remembering his dissection of her mispronunciation of her name.

"No, yew is a sacred tree used to make longbows, or Yu, who is dead," he responded shortly, smiling to take the sting out of it, as he turned to the black-clad girl, "Blake, nice to see you again."

She nodded to him, and then Sam pulled his China Lake gun from its scabbard, drawing his saber cutlass thing with the other hand. Really, it was more of a pirate-style cutlass, medium length, and he would have liked to have an Arkansas toothpick, or a flamberge, but some things were just not meant to be.

Leaving Something Wicked on his back, for the massive trident would be worse than useless in this forest, the trio pressed on.

Three was headed towards the temple at a swift pace when he saw an old friend of his passing by. As he passed the crazy daft old loony bugger, Three smirked and fled into Sam's shadow.

Yang and Blake continued on, until they saw that their teammate was gone. Looking around, they started searching for him, stopping when he emerged from the brush, using his sword to . . . stab his shadow? Apparently finishing off the unholy creature, he turned to the girls with a crazy smile, wiping his sword on his tunic, not that there was anything on the sword, nor did he have a tunic to wipe it on. Instead, he found himself wiping it on his rusty brown metal armor, which was in precarious shape already.

"Three thought it would be a hilarious idea to take the place of my shadow and mess with me," he explained, gesturing to his freshly cut-up face, which was streaming blood.

"Sorry," he apologized, reverting his face. The scars showed up stark for a second before becoming slightly less noticeable. The other two shrugged and carried on.

"Hey, Yang"—Sam cut himself off when they stepped into a large clearing with a huge pack of beowolves.

"What do you want?" Yang shouted, as she and Blake started running.

"I was going to ask you something, but I don't think now is the time for that," he shouted after their retreating forms.

Turning to contemplate the beowolves, he sheathed his weapons and transformed his left arm into a drill, the right into a Gatling saw, and started the dance.

a.A.a

Jaune and Pyrrha had just found themselves in a cave when a series of buzzsaw-like whines and shrieks echoed around the forest.

Twenty seconds later, they were gone.

(/-\)

Sam lay on the forest floor, taking a breather after the killing all them beowolves.

Gathering his will, he took in the life energy, including the two—not her, not her, give it back give it back give it back don't kill them. . .

(/-\)

"Did you feel that?" Yang asked the other, both of whom were leaning against trees. Blake nodded, and then Sam burst through the trees, gasping like he had run a marathon. Maybe he had? Which a hundred yards was not, though considering the energy he had expended and taken it, it was not really forgivable.

The trio continued, two of whom unaware of the dead trees that surrounded the clearing of dead beowolves.

On the cliff, Goodwitch turned to Ozpin.

"Do you see that?" she asked him, gesturing to the dead clearing.

"What is their secret?" Ozpin asked his scroll, not listening to his colleague.

(/-\)

Blake, Yang, and Sam burst into the clearing with the others, where Three stood, apart from the others. When the group walked in, Three's head snapped to them, and he stalked over.

Without a single muscle on his face moving, he slammed Sam into a tree, which the rest of the group either ignored or didn't notice.

Blake picked up on his actions, but also noticed that all Three was doing was talking to him, though she couldn't make the words out, only what Sam said.

"You have no right to tell me that, you little twerp, and what are you doing here anyway?" a short pause followed, before Sam spoke again.

"Yeah, good luck. Last time you tried that, you just took my eye. Either way, you don't have the weapons, or the training to kill me. Now get out of here before I shoot you, you nobody," he finished.

At that, Three growled, angrily, but let go of Sam. Could he be a Faunus? That sure sounded like a dog noise, but there were no ears. Tail?

It was then that Ruby dropped in, and then Weiss on top of Jaune.

Jaune's expression was rather flat.

(/-\)

AN: hello again, to all my friends. Remember waaaaay back in the beginning, when I whined about certain ships that would and would not be happening in this fic? I lied. Guess which one, I'll write you something.

Also, I write a great deal of my stuff at odd time (usually before I go to bed) so bear with me if it seems a little strange at times. I'm trying to follow the canon story, but it will diverge, and go into Sam's story.

SO in finishing, love all and fear none.

Now accepting altairian dollars, criticism, death threats, compliments, weapons, and anything else you'd like to donate.

Also, fifteen hundred words, this chapter, sans author's notes. I will try to keep my chapters above a thousand words each.

Finally, I must announce that I might/might not be updating often, as summer is RAPIDLY drawing to a close, and my family has elected to move out from here, this not-a-continent. It can get extremely—EXTREMELY dangerous outside, and in fact, temperature of lower than eighty degrees have been recorded. Me, I wouldn't have minded it, but there are worse problems than white-out conditions, and, to conclude, it's been hectic around here. We are debating whether to move back to America, or to Switzerland. Me, I want to go to Europe, but we know little german, and have nowhere we could stay, whereas we have holding in America. Anyway, postings might be a little spotty, but I will continue to write, and transcribe. Enjoy!

88, tomla134


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